


Flirting for Dummies

by chucks_prophet



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bookstore, Castiel Works in a Bookstore, Castiel is Interested, Dean is a flirt, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Speech Disorders, Starbucks, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-01
Updated: 2015-07-01
Packaged: 2018-04-07 04:12:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4248861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chucks_prophet/pseuds/chucks_prophet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Earth to Castiel."</p><p>“How may I help you, Charlie?” he replied, not bothering to shy away from his book.</p><p>“You can start by shifting those baby blues to twelve o’clock.”</p><p>Castiel moved his eyes, but only because he was stuck in a particularly slow chapter. The man resting north of the needle was in the magazine section. He wore a full head of caramel hair and a skintight Metallica shirt that rode up as he bent down, revealing a thin layer of bronze skin. He picked up what looked like Busty Asian Beauties before setting his sights on something more cultured, holding the latest issue of National Geographic with heavy scorn.</p><p>Or the one where Cas is a college student employed at a local bookstore and Dean is a hopelessly confused customer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flirting for Dummies

Ever since he can remember, Castiel has had a fascination for books. It’s a fascination that encompasses far more than the smooth, transposable covers and that age-induced mildew smell that lingers long after it’s been shipped out of the warehouse. It’s the content. It’s the fact that the influence of every day words can send him spiraling into an alternate truth. It’s the fact that each book has a different story to tell in its own inimitable way. His grandmother used to say it’s the escape without the consequences.

The first book he read was _The Great Gatsby._ Winter hit Pontiac like the Continental his philandering father drove to work for thirty years. The roads were mortared with snow; the local pond was glazed with a thin sheet of ice, and the schools were closed for the week, leaving a pre-pubescent holed up in his house with nothing to do. On the top shelf of the bookstand underneath the stairs were the too-blue eyes of Doctor T. J. Eckleburg. He put his resolve to the test and climbed the shelf in spider formation. Then he began reading.

He woke up the following day on his back with his two feet jammed in a cubbyhole and _Gatsby_ upended on his face. He never knew what happened to the old geezer.

That is until he wound up working in a bookstore ten years later. Now he had full access to every Tom, Dick, and Harry that fooled around and fell in love, and the best part: employee discounts. His coworkers joke that he’ll buy out Barnes & Noble one day. It’s not a bad idea. Maybe then Northwestern will cut him some slack on those student loans.

He’s reading _Fahrenheit 451_ when his shoulder gets a harsh shove. He doesn’t have to turn to know that it’s Charlie Bradbury, who always seems to have a bone to pick with him for not doing something so transparently obvious. “Earth to Castiel,” she said in a sing-song.

“How may I help you, Charlie?” he replied, not bothering to shy away from his book.

“You can start by shifting those baby blues to twelve o’clock.”

Castiel moved his eyes, but only because he was stuck in a particularly slow chapter. The man resting north of the needle was in the magazine section. He wore a full head of caramel hair and a skintight Metallica shirt that rode up as he bent down, revealing a thin layer of bronze skin. He picked up what looked like _Busty Asian Beauties_ before setting his sights on something more cultured, holding the latest issue of _National Geographic_ with heavy scorn.

He needed help, and it was Castiel’s job to assist him. Except, by the time he got to him, he was doing an uncanny rendition of the “Hokey Pokey” the way he had one foot inside the store and one foot out. Cas leveled his eyes with the distended green ones that belonged to the stranger’s. He could feel his pulse racing underneath the gentle, yet firm clasp of his hand that told the man he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. Castiel released him when he felt whatever encumbrance he carried do the same to him.

Cas paced his words as he said, “Hey, um, I didn’t mean to run you out of the store.”

Green Eyes stepped back inside, wearing a sympathetic smile that made the employee feel a sudden pang of guilt for holding him back. His mouth ran fruitlessly a few times, like he was internally debating on a proper response, and then said, “’s o-o-o-okay, not your f-f-f-f-fault, I’ll j-j-just c-come b-b-back another t-t-time.”

It was no wonder he sprinted for the nearest escape route. He was scared to ask for help. “It’s alright, you don’t have to speak,” he assured. “Do you have a cell phone?” Green Eyes nodded, drawing a Galaxy s6 from his pocket. “What’s your name? Type me your name.”

Green Eyes typed dexterously before holding up his phone. _Dean_ , it read.         

“Nice to meet you, Dean, I’m Castiel.” He went to hold out his hand but thought better of it; taking into consideration he’d inadvertently manhandled him not even a few seconds ago.

Before he could get another word in, Dean was typing again. _Nice to meet you too, Cas. (:_

The emoji did no justice to the real smile on Dean’s face. Castiel’s neck turned an unhealthy shade of red as he found his hand rubbing there. “So, what can I help you with, Dean?”

The handsome punter held up his index finger. The time he spent typing gave Cas a moment to shamelessly imbibe in some of his more outstanding features, like the constellation of freckles around his nose and the fine cut of his jaw. His hair, like his words, was a hot mess, but it complemented his lightly olive-toned skin. His eyes wandered south to his cherry red lips and Cas briefly wondered what he tasted like.

Before he could impregnate his mind with the first of the seven deadly sins, Dean held up his phone. _My baby brother’s b-day is the day after tomorrow & I’m blanking on gift ideas. One thing I know is he likes to read. He’s a smart kid, so I figure he reads smart things. You look like a smart guy, what do you think he’d read?_

Cas preoccupied his focus on the magazine stand to avoid the blush he felt coming on. “Well, I can tell you right now, _National Geographic_ isn’t a bad choice, but it is the most expensive.” He plucked the issue Dean was previously looking at and tucked it behind _Busty Asian Beauties,_ eliciting a small chuckle out of him.“If you want the bang for your buck, I recommend taking a detour to the Arts and Humanities section. I can take you back.”

Castiel guided him through a labyrinth of shelves and display tables before reaching their designated section. Dean whipped out another response: _He likes animals._

“Alright, we have a pretty extensive collection there, any animal in particular?”

Dean pulled his phone back and added _Dogs_.

Cas went to work, searching every archive on canines he could find. Normally, he would use the online database to find the available books on the subject, but as luck would have it, the internet was down. It wasn’t that big of a drawback to him, though. He’s combed the store front and back a thousand times, so he knows where to find things. Besides, it gives him an excuse to be closer to Dean. Dean with his shorthand emoticons.

Said man scuffed his shoe to get his attention. _Thanks, Cas._

Castiel knew there laid a deeper sentiment behind that text, because Dean’s mouth twisted. Cas wanted nothing more than to pry those lips open with a kiss. “You’re welcome, Dean.”

Cas ended up with half a dozen books for Dean to sift through at his leisure. He sat them down on a nearby table when he heard the other man laugh. He held a book out to Cas. _Speaking for Dummies._ Cas laughed with him, although most of it was forged. Dean typed something new, his hand itching slightly as he swiped down and across and repeated the action a few times to get the final product:

_Even though in my situation it’s more like Speaking to Hot Bookkeepers for Dummies._

Cas didn’t say anything for a whole minute. Dean must have mistaken his silence for panic because a moment later he was saying, “S-s-sorry, I d-didn’t mean t-t-t-t—”

“Hey, I said you didn’t have to talk, remember?” Dean nodded. “Sorry if I gave you the wrong impression, it’s just that no one’s ever called me that before.” He gaped at him like Cas grew three heads in the time they stood there. “I take it that surprises you?”

The original Green Eyes was speedy with his next reply: _I’m angrier than anything atm._

It was Hot Bookkeeper’s turn to chuckle. He scratched his neck again. “Thanks, I, uh—I’ll be sure to remember that when I’m checking you out.”

Dean smiled with all his teeth and Cas saw the start of a beautiful friendship.

***

Castiel toyed with the lid on his caramel pumpkin macchiato. It was one in the afternoon, better known to a bookstore operative as whipped as his dessert drink as break time. The other benefit of working in a bookstore was the half-priced drinks. Cas didn’t know how he would’ve survived all those late-night shifts and early morning summer classes without Starbucks. Caramel pumpkin macchiato was his life.

Except now it was his life for a different reason. Caramel was the color of Dean’s shock.

Dean drops in around this time of day from his full-time automotive technician duties at Singer’s Auto Repair. He’s positively mangy from head to toe, but he always hails the employee with a big, gummy smile. That’s when Cas decides he likes him best that way.

Their schedule is always the same. They sit at the table in the center of the eatery and exchange meaningful words on everything from work to family (for Dean this is his boss and his aforementioned little brother) and back to each other. All the while, they share the same cup of Joe like two love-struck teenagers (which neither can deny that they aren’t). People stare, but Cas doesn’t take notice. His focus is entirely on the fan-fiction green eyes of one Dean Winchester.

“So,” Cas commences when Dean reflects on his brother once more, “you said last week you’d bring Sam in with you. It’s a week into summer now, so unless he’s working you leave me no choice but to believe that he’s either a) as real a boy as Pinocchio or b) very much real and you’re turning him into a social recluse so you can have me all to yourself.”

Dean typed a reply with a roguish grin on his face. _I’ll take Door B for 800._

“I knew you were holding out on me,” Cas claimed, pointing an accusing finger.

 _And you were holding out on me, smart guy (;_ Dean typed back, hiding his blush.

Cas simply shrugged, taking another sip of his drink. “I can live with that.”

 

 

The next time Dean sees Cas, he informs him that his phone took the big dump. So rather than written communication, they end up articulating. With their tongues. Many times.

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on Tumblr @ doppelganging-misha!


End file.
